


the romance died but it didn’t in me

by blessed_image



Series: bury a friend: umbrella academy fics [9]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Agender Number Five | The Boy, Angst, Apocalypse, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Kinda, Mentions of Major Character Death, Number Five | The Boy Has Issues, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Other, for yall to understand, how much do i have to repeat this, oof fuck this hurt, they love her sm!!!, which is canon?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-24 01:41:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18159806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blessed_image/pseuds/blessed_image
Summary: Five hated the apocalypse. But they had Dolores, until they didn’t.





	the romance died but it didn’t in me

In the apocalypse, there was nothing.

 

The grass was barren, dead and rare; no rich, green gardens or bushes to frame a white picket fence. The air was polluted, every single breath being more ash than actual breathable gas. But Five lived through it.

 

In the apocalypse, there was loneliness.

 

Street corners that, yet just days prior to Five’s dissapearance were littered with people, now were bare. Those offerring flyers, or food for thought, maybe an advertisement for a new café opening down the road. People would be rushing to their workplace, friends would stroll with eachother obnoxiously; and Five would remember weaving themself through the waves of them all. If you had asked them before it all went to shit, they would tell you how glad they would be to see it all go. But now?

 

Now, they miss it. So much. Five lived through it.

 

In the apocalypse, there was death.

 

Five remembers this the most vividly. Remembers the breathtaking moment that they noticed the small, but distinct, tatoo carved into this man’s- Klaus’- wrist. Five remembers begging for the smallest chance that there may be a pulse on one of them, knowing the answer they hoped for wouldn’t be given- but just trying anyway.

 

Five remembers trying their hardest to lift the rubble scattered across them all. Small chunks, big chunks, chunks larger than their entire body.

 

Five remembers giving up days later, hands blistered and raw. They remember, curling up next to Klaus- the one who looked the least dead. It was a hard choice to make, but there was just less rubble; and he was lighter than the others, easier to grip onto. Easier to lift his arm, for Five to encase themself under. They ignored the rotten smell. It was a rough night, but Five lived through it.

 

They remember digging gasoline out of the wreckage of an old car. They remember coating their siblings in it, frowning at the smell of rot and fuel mixing together. They remember lighting it with the small flame sparked by broken twigs- not a single match in sight. They remember watching them burn. They remember crying that morning, but Five lived through it.

 

In the apocalypse, there was Dolores.

 

‘Was’ isn’t the correct term, they think. She stayed with Five, just like she promised that day.

 

She held their hand during the dark nights, pointing out celestial markings in the sky; where stars lined up, where they circled the moon. Protection, is what she whispered. Protection and love.

 

She would direct them through the deserted roads, even when their eyes would grow heavy. Even when their feet hurt, shoes wearing out from overuse.

 

She was with them, throughout the end of the whole world. She was the only one that didn’t leave them, even when their emotions were high and low. Even when their tears would be the only clear thing in sight, even when her words would not break through to them.

 

Dolores used soft words, soft touches as well as soft eyes to guide them back to safety. Just like the stars would do for the moon, creating a path for the sun to shine through. She was their stars.

 

Dolores had slim hands, rounded nails that were always a beautiful shade of red- never chipped or thin. Dolores had dark skin, small freckles painting her arms and nose; literal stars upon her. Her hair was unruly, black and messy- but she still let Five run their fingers through it. She would lean into the touch, would close her eyes and hold her own boney fingers over theirs. She would smile even when there was nothing to smile about.

 

There was never anything to smile about, but she did anyway. Five thinks that’s why they love her so much. They love her peacefulness, her love for all things still making it’s way through the rubble. They love her polka dot dresses, matching heels. They love her sharp eyeliner, her glossy lips and her long lashes that would flutter against her skin like butterfly wings. But her positivity.

 

Her positivity is what got Five to live through it. And they could never stop feeling grateful for that, even as they lay her gently back in the place she belongs. Even as they whisper a short goodbye, forcing tears out their eyes.

 

She always got them through the rough times, they smiled.

 

She was too good for them, they knew.

 

She needed to be let go, they hated.

 

’Was’ is now the correct term for her. She promised to stay, but Five didn’t promise her back that day.

**Author's Note:**

> uhh rhanks for reading sorry abt this but i wanted to post something before i went to sleep. there will be sumn better tomorrow so pls accept this


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